


Like a Supernova

by ImMaxwellBailey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, BAMF everyone, Canon Plot Devices, Fluff and Smut, Good morgana, Mentions of genocide, Mentions of homophobia, Multi, Strong Angst, Uther is evil, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImMaxwellBailey/pseuds/ImMaxwellBailey
Summary: Crown Prince Arthur resents the royal duties that inevitably wait him once he finished his assignment to hunt down and destroy the person known as Emrys and his separatist Albion Collective. What he doesn't know is that the galaxy is a whole lot more dangerous than he expects. When a strange enemy attacks his flagship, he's rescued by an unlikely ally. Arthur's mission is about to get a whole lot more complicated.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starting my second new fic in the space of a week is insane right? Good. I just had this idea, had to write it, it's probably absolutely dreadful. Enjoy! 
> 
> (as usual, it's not edited by anyone but me and i'm bad at spotting my mistakes)

Growing from the ashes of a galaxy-wide civil war, the Camelot Empire was the largest faction and most mighty military is an ever-increasingly fractured galaxy… but it was also the most brutal faction. Imperial citizens, nestled safely in their central worlds knew little of the difficulties that planets that were further afield endured. They knew nothing of food shortages in the core, they knew nothing of pirate raids in the core. For all intents, the Imperial core was like a massive forcefield. On the rim of the Empire though, there were threats that multiplied in number by the day. One of these threats was why the Crown Prince was currently on the edge of their space, secretly hunting one of the Empire’s most elusive foes. During the last galactic civil war, aptly named ‘The Great Rupture’, several factions began to experiment on their soldiers. Augmentations were made to human genetics that gave rise to a new race of humans, aptly coined as “Sorcerers”. These men and women were capable of moving objects with their mind, and manipulating the space around them with the twitch of a finger. It was when these Sorcerers revolted against their masters that they began to present a threat. Ever since Uther Pendragon had ascended to Camelot’s throne, anyone in the Empire found with these augments in their DNA were automatically sentenced to death, they were deemed as ‘dangers to society’ and ‘abominations’. Occasionally, Uther even went so far as to hunt these people in the territories of other states, it was a policy that had earned him few friends in the intergalactic community. 

Standing on the bridge of his sleek new warship, Arthur stared into the Jewelled Abyss. Possibly the most famous celestial object in the galaxy, the nebula full of volatile gas and rock was the hiding ground of the infamous separatist organisation known as ‘The Albion Collective’. It was dangerous for Camelot ships to enter the nebula, as inside there was no way that their superior sensors would function normally. The separatists would have the element of surprise, and that wasn’t something that Arthur could afford to give, even now that he had been gifted with the CS Excalibur. It was the most advanced ship-of-the-line, or command ship as Arthur called it, that had ever been built. It was possibly the most technologically advanced ship in the entire galaxy. The Excalibur benefitted from powerful canons that could shred most targets in seconds, and was also outfitted with brand new ‘shock shields’ that held laser weaponry at bay for more than 4x times that of the previous model of shielding. The ship itself was a marvel to look at, although it was smaller than the gunships and the fighter carriers that made up the rest of the fleet, its silver plating and pointed hull gave it an aura of sophistication. Arthur often found himself telling his officers that “Excalibur is the epitome of Excellence”, no matter how corny or douchey that sounded. The ship was shaped like a sword laid down. The powerful engines were strapped to the stern of the ship on what looked like a pommel, which contained the ship’s power source, the central nuclear core. The rest of the back of the ship contained small hangars for a number of strike craft. The front of the ship started with the two ‘wings’ that held most of the ship’s heavy weaponry, it then extended all the way out like a blade containing the automated weaponry and torpedo tubes. To top it all off, the Excalibur was fitted with an experimental sensor cloak that could be activated for short periods of time. The cloak prevented any sensors from detecting the ship or its emission trails, and dulled the shine from the hull to make the ship almost invisible to the naked eye. Of course it had its limitations of a 15 minute run time, and the fact that if they got close enough the Excalibur would be as visible as the sun in the sky. All in all, the CS Excalibur was a beautiful ship with an extremely deadly intention. Arthur knew that he’d be reluctant to relinquish command of the vessel once his mission was complete.

The mission itself, whether he liked it or not, was to obliterate the separatists in the nebula with extreme prejudice, and ensure the elimination of ‘Emrys’. He was expected to be leaving no survivors. That particular part of the order itself sat on his mind like a cup of cold sick would sit in someone’s stomach. It’s true that he was a man of action, and that he wasn’t afraid to use force, but the thought of massacring the countless men and women that operated the Collective made him frown ever time. Arthur knew for a fact that he’d be acting much the same if his home had been forcefully taken from him, especially if what followed was a genocide. He saw these separatists as principled fighters, sure they were the enemy, but they deserved more respect than what was afforded to them by Emperor Uther. Despite his reluctance to kill them all, those were his father’s orders; the likelihood being that if he didn’t kill them himself, Uther would simply take command of his vessels and do it himself - if there were small mercies that Prince Arthur could grant the Collective, he would do so. Arthur lifted his infoPAD to review the new intelligence that his scouts had collected.

The Albion Collective was a well trained paramilitary, organised by a faceless figurehead, known only as ‘Emrys’. The force itself is an offshoot from the former Royal guard on the planet Albion, which was brutally conquered by Camelot in a bloody space assault several decades ago. It was the assault that earned Uther Pendragon his throne. From what his intelligence could imply, the Collective had a large, self sustaining space station hidden deep in the nebula that could perhaps maintain up to 90 vessels. According to the intelligence predictions, there was no way that their ships were as advanced as the Excalibur, but they had no ideas about the enemy’s speed or the kind of weaponry that they may now carry. This was because the Collective was known to be extremely smart and resourceful, and had boarded at least a dozen Camelot deep-space cruisers.

Today, the planet Albion was still a source of strife for the Emperor of Camelot, and clearly the Collective still operated to a limited degree there, but it wasn’t the focal point. Despite being a rich world, much of the population were attached to their relatives and protectors who were sorcerers. Uther had made sure that, once his power was solidified in Camelot, he returned to Albion to round up the Sorcerers that remained after the battle. One by one, Uther burned those men and women to death; even the children among them. Even by Arthur’s standards, that made Uther a barbarian - not that the general public knew his thoughts on the matter.

Once his mission as a General was completed, he was to then return to the Imperial Core to resume his duties as Crown Prince. Duties that likely included marrying some noble girl and get to producing heirs like they were some kind of commodity… which would be par for the course if he looked at how his father had treated him for the early part of his life. He had made it very clear, and very public, that he had absolutely no intention of marrying a woman. He even went so far as to get caught frequenting establishments that were considered “beneath him” by his father. The fact still stood though, if he was going to fall in love it would be with a man. If he slept with people they were men, not women. He resented his royal position, and was glad that this assignment was likely to drag on for quite some time. This of course owing to the fact that the Collective was the most illusive foe he’d ever faced; so illusive in fact that his 5 months posted here had yet to result in physical engagement. There had been little more than a few chance sightings of their scouts on the edge of the Nebula. Arthur supposed that he should be grateful, being left out here with little to shoot at, but the relative silence from the Collective was making the captains of his ships extremely jumpy. For now though, he was the commander of 78 warships, which were maintained with a combined total of 45,000 soldiers. His orders would decide whether those men and women lived or died, his decisions would dictate how many of these ships made it back to the Imperial core… or so he thought. Seemingly out of nowhere, the sensors of his ship roared to life with notifications of incoming slips.

“All ships, this is General Pendragon. Charge weapons, and await my command, we have incoming.” Arthur commanded, keeping his voice smooth and calm. If the incoming ships were Collective, this would likely be the first engagement of the mission. In an instant, the lights aboard the CS Excalibur dimmed, and tactical information began to spring up on the bridge glass. The Prince seemed to hold his breath and narrow his eyes as he waited for the Collective to meet him, he was near certain that it was them. 

All at once, the empty space in-front of him was replaced by what could only be described as a massive **_horde_**. If Arthur’s eyes and ship sensors were to be believed, his fleet was being faced down by several hundred strange ships, the design of which he had never seen. The ships were like large metal diamonds, all of them painted a deep royal purple. The fleet was made up of a large range of sizes, the largest of the ships was in the centre of the formation. It was clear from their stance that these ships were not friendly, and they certainly were not Albion Collective ships. The new enemy had arrived in an attack formation, and were slowly advancing towards the CS Excalibur, and the fleet that flanked her.

“Open a direct line to Naval HQ, immediately.” Arthur barked. When his communications officer nodded, he once again composed his voice, “This is General Pendragon of the CS Excalibur, we have engaged an unknown entity on the edge of the Jewelled Abyss, we are outnumbered 5 to 1. Request immediate backup. Please respond.” There was silence for several seconds before Arthur stated again, “Please respond.” Arthur let another minute pass before turning to his officer, “Leon, tell me that message got through to HQ.”

“We’re might be jammed, but I can’t bloody tell! HQ didn’t even ping back, it’s like they don’t even exist!” Leon shouted, frantically trying to adjust his equipment to spot an anomaly, “If we’re being blocked it’s by something we’ve never seen before. All I can tell you is that they’re not the collective, their own communications are like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

As if the new enemy had been listening to Leon’s words, a loud screech ripped through the communications system, forcing everyone to cover their ears and grimace with pain. Leon quickly tapped at his work-station finally shutting off the system, which allowed the crew to regain their wits just in time for the ships opposite to start firing upon them. The enemy’s assault was vicious and unrelenting, but Arthur’s ships were standing firm, firing their canons back and dealing almost as much damage as they were taking. The Prince didn’t delude himself though, he knew that by sheer numbers alone this battle’s outcome was decided. He focussed his fire on the larger ships, trying his best to knock out their large weapons so that they might have a chance if backup was on its way, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath. 

Several hours passed, both sides had been exchanging fire continuously, and the enemy ships had refused to respond to any attempts Arthur made at communicating with them. It was frustrating, the lack of parley in the middle of a battle, but it made one thing clear to the Prince, and that was ships that were attacking him now had been sent to destroy them, not to reason with them. Because of this, the damage to the Prince’s fleet was becoming more and more noticeable. Perhaps the only undamaged ship out of all of them was the CS Excalibur. Arthur moved back to the Captain’s chair, sitting down in it with as much swagger as he had remaining. “Percival, give me an update, what’s the state of our fleet? How many ships are out?”

Percival was the Excalibur’s pilot. He was struggling to keep an eye on the ship’s pitch as he tapped at his station, but Arthur was able to excuse that considering the intensity of the barrage that was pummeling their shields “Several of the carriers are sounding evacuation orders, and are launching their fighters as a last resort. Gunships CS Faulks, CS Lear, CS Javelin, CS Maul and CS Rapier are all reporting severe power losses and they’re still under heavy fire. They’re in danger, Sir.” 

“Move the Excalibur in a position to draw the enemy fire, our shields are barely feeling a scratch. Order all ships that are reporting critical malfunctions to evacuate and set course towards the enemy with self destruct set to impact. Tell them to aim for that Capital ship.”

“Yes sir.” More than one of his officers responded to his commands, as he levelled his gaze back out at the nebula that faced his ship. Space was such an endless void, but it held endless wonders to be unlocked. It also contained immeasurably hazardous foes, which was made all the more stark by the predicament the Prince found himself in.

Arthur watched as his ships were sent aflame towards the enemy lines one by one, their power sources barely able to maintain the small lasers and the engines at once. Arthur knew that the plan was a long-shot, but several of his gunships managed to explode next to some enemy ships, with varying degrees of damage dealt. By this stage, his brows were firmly knotted in a deep scowl, his first (and likely last) space engagement would go down as an extreme failure. By now, Arthur had lost more than 80% of his fleet, but he took solace with the fact that the vast majority of the crew of each ship were in shuttles and pods headed towards the nearest habitable planet, and not floating cold and dead in the vacuum of space. Sirens were even screeching in the corridors of the CS Excalibur now, as the missiles and plasma attacks tore holes in the flagship’s formerly pristine hull. It was becoming hard to think. Without warning, one of the small gunships exploded directly beside the Excalibur, knocking Arthur’s ship sideways and sending the crew sprawling. Cracks had appeared in the Bridge’s glass, but the warnings on the tactical screen were still clear as day. Their shields were currently inoperable. Arthur knew that now could be his last chance to retreat.

Arthur turned around to face Leon, shouting “Order the remaining ships to-“

“MORE VESSELS INCOMING!” Percival interrupted over the sirens, interrupting Arthur’s order. The Prince also noticed that the enemy had stopped firing on his ship, which was now the last operational ship out of his entire fleet. 

“More of the same?” Arthur breathed, desperately hoping that the reinforcements from Camelot had arrived.

“No, sir.” Percival took a sharp intake of breath before continuing, “It’s the Collective.”

The Prince’s jaw clenched down hard, of course the collective would arrive now, of all times. They had probably been watching his fleet the entire time. He immediately asked himself two questions, both of which he didn’t know the answer to: Are they here to help? Will the Excalibur be able to outrun them? Arthur watched helplessly as tens of battleships materialised one by one on the fringe of the battle. At the head of the new faction, was a glorious ship which might have even rivalled the Excalibur in beauty. The ship looked distinctly like a dragon, there was no other way of putting it in Arthur’s head. It was painted a deep, dark gunmetal grey but it was also decorated with ornate, tribal flame patterns on its ‘wings’, It looked twice as deadly as Excalibur did, even if the ship itself looked ancient. It also looked painfully similar to the ship that his sister Morgana had been aboard when the Collective attacked and destroyed it. The ship Morgana had used was a commandeered vessel formerly used by the Albion Royal Family, so he supposed it made sense that they looked alike. He wondered if Emrys was aboard the vessel that stood proudly at the edge of the battlefield.

Soon, the new arrivals let their weapons fire directly into the heart of the enemy’s formation, and within seconds Arthur realised that his intelligence was far off of the mark. The Collective’s lasers burned through the purple enemy as if they were paper, taking little to no damage in the hurried fire that was sent back at them. Less than 20 minutes had passed, and Arthur’s mouth was agape as the remaining purple ships skipped away. Now the Collective’s attention was turned onto Arthur, and onto Excalibur.

* * *

Onto the bridge marched several Collective soldiers, all but one of them carrying incredibly powerful guns. The soldier that seemed the most important was the one that was only carrying a sidearm strapped to his hip. The soldier looked little more than a boy, but Arthur guessed that he could possibly be around the same age as him. He had dark brown hair that looked as if it had never been brushed, but it admittedly suited the skinny lanky body that it was coupled with. The boy had intense golden eyes that were probably the most beautiful things that Arthur had ever seen. He was 90% sure that the universe was playing with him when he noticed the slight blush on the boy’s cheeks, and the pink fullness of his lips. It was truly ridiculous how stunning the enemy captain had turned out to be. _Things like this are only supposed to happen in movies_ , Arthur thought.

“What are you doing out here Arthur Pendragon?” the lanky boy snapped at Arthur, pistol pointed at the Prince’s chest, “Answer me quickly.”

“I’d answer him, sunshine, if you want to keep your testicles nice and comfy where they are.” a long haired soldier stated, “Merlin here’s not one to be patient with his questions.” He was happy that the soldier had given up two pieces of information with his interjection. One, that the Collective commander’s name was Merlin. Two, that this long haired, beggar looking soldier, was the second in the chain of command.

Arthur gulped, not truly registering the direct threat, but his brain was working extremely fast to try to get him a plan that would guarantee his freedom. His odds looked extremely poor from where he stood. “If you know who I am, you already know that I’m looking for Emrys.” He said, raiding his chin up to stare directly into Merlin’s annoyingly fetching eyes.

“What do you want with him.” Merlin pressed, clearly upholding the reputation of impatience. Arthur contemplated what it might take for the boy to instigate a fight with him and his officers, all it would take is getting this Merlin as his own hostage and the Excalibur would likely be able to move on unharmed. “Gwaine, put cuffs on him.” 

“What do you **_think_** he wants with Emrys? He means to kill him and end the Collective.” the long haired man spat, now identifiable as Gwaine. The Prince was sure that the soldier put the cuffs on too tight as a gesture of distaste, but he was distracted when he saw his officers being led away by the other Collective soldiers.

Arthur cleared his throat before interjecting, “So I’m looking for a male? My orders are to kill Emrys, that’s right. What I actually intend to do is another matter entirely. Perhaps I want to speak with him, maybe if he’s pretty enough I’ll even bed him.” Arthur smirked, noting the redness of the lanky boy’s ears, and the deepened blush on his cheeks. The Prince noted that the boy knew exactly who and where Emrys was. He then looked directly at the gun still pointed directly at his heart, “I don’t like it when people point guns at me.”

“Where did you learn to act like such a prat? The only reason you’re even alive is because of me. I’ll point my gun where I like.” the boy, Merlin, seeming much calmer now. “I’m not sure Emrys quite has the taste for stuck up sons-of-tyrants like you, so you’ll just have to settle for talking with him. Hope you don’t mind.” Merlin nodded, and Arthur could only look as he made a gesture at Gwaine that seemed to say ‘ _move_ ’.

He felt a push at his back, Gwaine clearly wanting him to move, and Arthur realised he was now headed for the Collective flagship, “ _Your highness._ ” Gwaine added, tone practically dripping with sarcasm. Arthur decided that it was best to cooperate, but he’d be damned if he let his capture be the last word. He promised himself that he’d escape as soon as he was able. To Arthur’s surprise, he was simply teleported to the bridge of the dragon ship, and placed in the captain’s quarters. Arthur sat down on the large bed, waiting for whatever the Collective had in store for him next.

Arthur stood when Merlin entered the room with his hands clasped behind his back. He half contemplated an attempt to overpower the man but his hands were handcuffed behind his back. Arthur once again drank from the sight. The Prince had to admit to himself, he wanted to rip the boy’s clothes off and have his way with him on the very bed that he sat on, then against the walls, and then on the table that was across the room. The handcuffs that were tight on his wrists made him twitch that little bit harder. Attempting to get his head out of the gutter, he tried to turn the situation to his advantage. He could probably still win a fight against this Merlin though, the boy looked as if a strong gust of wind could blow him over.

“I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you.” Merlin warned, which dispelled the ideas of violence from Arthur’s brain in an instant. Again, Arthur was irritated at how attractive his captor was, especially when he was being assertive.

“Why is that _Mer_ lin?” Arthur grinned, deciding that the tease was his best bet at regaining control of the conversation. It was his best bet and he took the small victory in seeing the blush creep over Merlin’s cheeks once more, just like he’d cause on the Excalibur.

The door hissed shut, and Merlin raised one of his hands, causing Arthur’s handcuffs fall to the floor. “I’m a Sorcerer.” the boy stated, matter of factly. Merlin’s other hand held out a bottle of water, which the Prince took. “Tell me everything about your mission, and I will request a meeting with Emrys. You have my word.” 

So Arthur did. He told Merlin everything he knew. He started with Uther’s hatred of Albion’s sorcerers, how he was uncomfortable with just massacring people which is why he refused to simply bombard the nebula. How his conscience was more important to him that his performance for a man that he had long since abandoned as a father figure. He told Merlin of the spies that he’d sent into the nebula that never sent anything back. Merlin informed the Prince that the spies never reported back to him because they had all been persuaded to his cause. Arthur wasn’t entirely sure he believed that but he continued anyway. He continued to tell Merlin of the increasing pressure he was under from the Emperor to find and destroy the Collective, and that he was trying his best to find a solution that would meant that he didn’t have to commit genocide like his father had. The Prince also admitted that he didn’t know if that was possible, and predicted that if he ever did complete his mission the way that his father wanted him to, then the blood of many thousands of people would be on his hands. Arthur sighed as he mumbled, “I suppose that stain on my conscience is a price I may have to pay. Should I live through your captivity.” 

“You must have a personal resentment for the Collective, if you wish to promise me the death of my commander.” Merlin stated, he was being assertive again, but his face was sad. This sorcerer really believed that the organisation he belonged to was in the right, despite the acts of terrorism they had committed in the past. “We have never attacked Camelot first, ever. The reason we exist today to take your credits and steal your warcraft is because you invaded my planet and slaughtered hundreds and thousands of my people.” Merlin’s voice was even, but 

Arthur hit a blank, but settled on the only thing he could bring to the front of his brain. “The Collective killed my sister.”  


“Actually…” Merlin started, but a knock at the door interrupted him. The door slid open once more, showing Arthur a sight he had not seen for years, “Your sister is a valued member of the collective.” the sorcerer explained.

Morgana stepped into the room, relief, love, joy, and countless more emotions flooded her face at once she saw her brother, “Arthur! You’re alright! You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.” Much like she was before, Morgana was a stoic character. Her face showed the genuine emotion that she was trying to convey, but she did not rush to hug her brother. She looked and acted exactly the same way that she had before she ‘died’.

“M..Mo..Morgana?” Arthur stuttered, convinced that this truly was his sister, but his brain froze on the details, “How?”

At that, Morgana frowned slightly, “I was never attacked, I stole this ship to join the Collective. I could not bear the thought that Uther had massacred all of those people. I could not abide the genocide he had ordered…” A single tear fell down Morgana’s cheek. Arthur noticed it, but he wasn’t entirely certain that Morgana did, “… I am also a sorcerer. I would have been next.”

“Morgana…” Arthur started, but he was interrupted by Merlin clearing his throat. The two sorcerers looked at each other and nodded, and Morgana took her leave with a quick smile at Arthur. The Prince was pretty sure the smile meant, ‘I’ll see you later’, so he wasn’t too worried about losing his head… yet. He sat back down on the bed, and looked up at Merlin with a raised eyebrow.

“I really hate to break up your family reunion, Arthur Pendragon.” Merlin said, as he sat next to Arthur, with the Prince feeling a hand placed seductively on his shoulder, “But you wanted to talk to Emrys.”

Arthur nodded, growing tired of the games this Merlin was playing, “Yes, I did. Is he aboard?”

“Arthur, allow me to introduce myself.” The sorcerer’s lips curled into a smile as Arthur’s face went sheet white, Merlin leaned in, and whispered quietly in his ear, “My name is Merlin Emrys.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlina and Arthur decide to work together on a plan, with added distractions.

Merlin left Arthur to his own devices in his quarters, before he went to interrogate the survivors of Pendragon’s crew. The entire time, he was almost decked with surprise because of how open-minded his crew was. No cold bigotry, no stupid clichés against sorcerers, no aggressive tendencies… Merlin decided that it was safe to transfer all of them to private (but guarded) quarters in his ship. He knew that if he showed kindness and understanding to them now, they might perhaps be able to work together, and prevent his people from being eventually massacred by the Sidhe. Once he had figured out how to use the consoles on the Excalibur, Merlin ordered his fleet to disperse on recon missions to find out just how devastating the Sidhe’s attack on the Camelot Empire had been; the results of those operations were reporting in, and they made for extremely grim reading. He then moved his ship and the Excalibur deep into space in an attempt to hide from any Camelot patrols, or Sidhe hordes. He had no doubt that Arthur’s now-destroyed fleet was not the most powerful the empire had even if the Prince himself believed that it was, but by the sounds of it the Camelot Empire was on its knees, and the sole remaining space forces were around Albion and the Core. Regardless, for now the Albion Collective were all safe and they even had found themselves in ‘possession’ of both of the potential heirs to the Camelot throne, all in all the day had ended as a victory for them.

With the surprise of how kind Arthur’s crew could be, he was also shocked at how cold his own soldiers were. Gwaine had presented a particular problem, and he’d even gone so far as confining him to quarters as well. He’d become horrified by how many of his closest advisers were of the mind that they should have allowed the Sidhe to wipe the Camelot fleet out in its entirety, and left the Prince to die there and then. Merlin knew that as an aspiring planetary leader, that was not how alliances were formed, and that was not how prejudices were broken. He was walking to the bridge of his ship, preparing himself for a ship-wide broadcast that would hopefully set the record straight on the matter.

“Broadcast a message to the entire Collective Navy, and play it throughout the entire ship and in others that are close by.” Merlin commanded, as he sat in his Captain’s chair.

“Aye Emrys.” The commander responded, tapping at his console before nodding back at Emrys, signalling that he was live.

“This is a broadcast to all Albion Collective ships, soldiers, and operatives. For the past few months, it has been our task to cause a royal nuisance for the Camelot Empire and its navy, and judging by their sending Crown Prince Arthur to deal with us, I’d say we’ve succeeded.

Our fight, for the return of our planetary independence, and justice for our slaughtered comrades will continue until both of those goals have been achieved, that is my promise. This is because we know for sure that our fight against Uther Pendragon is righteous. There will be no peace for Camelot until Albion is restored to her rightful citizens.

With that being said, Arthur Pendragon is not his father. He is not to be treated as if he is a barbarian, he is a guest on board my ship. It is true, that we took him captive during the battle with the Sidhe at the Jewelled Abyss, but he is my prisoner no longer. If you can accept his sister walking freely through the hall of my ship, you can accept him as well. I believe that he will aid us in our fight against the Sidhe, and I believe he will help us free Albion from his own Empire.

I’ve had the opportunity to speak with the Prince personally, and I can assure you that regardless of his original mission parameters, he does not wish me any harm. I… trust him. I want to work **_with_** him. Right now we will continue to remain scattered to minimise our losses, stand by to receive new orders by the end of the day.

Emrys out.”

Merlin stood as he finished his speech, and the Officers on his bridge followed suit; a sign of respect and admiration. He moved around the bridge, discussing changes to their next plan. The intricate details had been laid down over the months that Merlin had been in command. He’d begun working on them almost immediately after his father had disappeared. He was planning to head to Albion, with the entire Collective fleet and surround the planet. It was clear however, that the most pressing issue would be the Sidhe, and the mystery of their arrival in Camelot space. Perhaps Uther had done something to attract or anger them, perhaps he did something to do both. Either way, Merlin knew that he needed to find out, and quickly.

* * *

Merlin realised that he had been working for hours, and walked out of the bridge doors, where he found Arthur waiting for him. Clearly the guards at the door didn’t let the Crown Prince through.

“Emrys, finally… I was hoping we could talk.” Arthur spoke, almost as if he was in a hurry.

“Sure why not? I was actually just about to come and see you anyway. We’ve got a lot to talk about… I think. Walk with me?” Merlin gestured, continuing to wander down the corridor. 

“Okay.” Arthur fell into step beside Emrys, still clearly on edge but speaking to Merlin was the only way he was ever going to achieve anything. “If we aren’t prisoners here, I’d like to request that me and my men be returned to our own ship. You cannot guarantee our safety here on the Kilgharrah, and-“

“I’m going to stop you there I’m afraid Arthur.” Merlin interrupted, “I cannot return you to your ship yet. I said that you weren’t prisoners here and I meant it, but before you leave I will need your help.”

“If we aren’t free to leave, your claims that we are not your prisoners are lies.” Arthur snapped. He hated feeling helpless, and every second spent on this ship meant that his men were at risk from attack from any of the Collective’s soldiers. He’d heard many jokes whilst he walked through the ship to make him as uneasy as he’d ever been.

Merlin laughed, “You’re cute when you’re angry!” He tried not to react to the setting of Arthur’s jaw. It made his chiselled face look even more attractive. Perhaps he was going to have to annoy the Prince more often. “What I said was entirely truthful, your majesty. If I let you return to your ship, where would you go? Your Empire is in ruins and the Sidhe are merely days from breaching into the core worlds. I can guarantee your safety here a whole lot more than I can anywhere out there.” Merlin gestured wildly around him as if to imply ‘anywhere else’ “Besides, my soldiers are much less likely to put your head on a spike than the Sidhe are. With them, it’s an objective certainty.” 

The Prince did his best to contain his blush, “I don’t believe you. Your aim has always been to bring down the Empire, you’d say anything that would help you achieve that goal.”

Emrys sighed deeply, resisting the urge to physically comfort Arthur with a hand to his shoulder, “When we arrive at my lab, I’ll show you the recon reports that I’ve gathered, and I’m more than happy for you to read them yourself. Besides, you saw what they did to your ships at the Abyss. Spread them across space like they were butter, didn’t they?” Merlin waved, casually dismissing Arthur’s claims, “Besides, if I wanted the Empire to fall I would have left you to die in the battle. There’s a reason I plucked you from the wreckage of your fleet and nursed your ship back to health at the cost of many of my own people. We need each other to beat the evil in this galaxy, be that the Sidhe or your father, you **_must_** assume the throne of Camelot.” 

“Does everyone in the Collective speak of high treason as casually as you do?” Arthur bit back, with less menace in his voice than he thought there would be.

“Well I bloody well hope not! I’m their leader after all. But I’m deadly serious. You don’t agree with your father’s policies, I’ve confirmed as much from your private logs that you’d reverse them if you were King.” Merlin began, stopping abruptly in front of a large locked blast door. “I don’t know whether it’d dawned on you yet, but neither you nor I have the power to beat the Sidhe outright. Definitely not, now that they control Camelot’s production belt. This means your father is likely in grave danger, if he isn’t already dead. You may have no choice but to assume the throne, but when you do you’re going to set Albion free.”

The door to the lab opened, causing Arthur’s mouth to hang agape. Clearly, Emrys was the owned of untold levels of genius, and he used it to develop new technologies. Arthur felt Merlin’s fingers lace around his own, with a weird feeling of belonging flowing into him. He then found himself being led to the console in the middle of the room. The contact between the Prince and Merlin ended abruptly when the sorcerer dropped the hand to tap at his workstation, bringing up a map that compiled his recon reports. The map showed the dire extent of the damage that Merlin waved his hand at the map, “In return I will give you something you’ve always wanted for the Empire. Peace.”

Arthur’s frown deepened, and it actually caused some discomfort to Merlin to see the Prince so troubled. After several long minutes of study, Arthur turned to breathe one simple question, “How?” Both of them knew that the answer would be much more complex.

“Why don’t we figure that out together?” Merlin smiled back, as they both turned to the workstation. Before long, they were both hard at work. Bouncing ideas off each other with ease as if they’d known each other for years; decades even. Soon they had the basics of a sound plan to disperse the Sidhe, and make their space safe again. It was the details that would take the time.

* * *

Several hours after either of the boys’ brains ceased to function normally, they retired to Merlin’s quarters to eat and to talk more personally. They’d both covered the usual personal details quickly. Arthur’s mother dying during childbirth, his personal rivalry with his father, his family’s disgust when he admitted he was attracted to men, losing Morgana, being sent to the edge of Camelot space to hunt and kill a man he didn’t want to harm. Merlin’s was much the same, he covered his sorcery, his father’s disappearance, the loss of his home planet, being hunted into an abyss by an annoyingly handsome Prince. The two had also shared classified secrets about the movements of troops in their organisations, but Merlin wanted to go a step further. He wanted to tell Arthur something that only a handful of people knew, even in the Albion Collective.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Merlin asked, not raising his head from where his fork rested in his food.

“Sure.” Arthur responded, giving Emrys his full attention.   


“The ships that we use, ‘dragon ships’ you call them,” Merlin started, using his fingers for emphasis, “They’re not just advanced warships, they’re controlled by sentient AI.”

Arthur frowned slightly, “In the Empire, we see AI as a dangerous overstep. Technology that advanced could subvert organic life.”

“Well, the Empire’s not wrong, not entirely. Kilgharrah, my ship’s AI, has served the leader of Albion for centuries. We’ve learned to co-exist. The AIs in the ship are willing servants of specific commanders.” Merlin explained, “For example, the Aithusa, the large white ship you thought was destroyed along with your sister when she was taken from Albion. That ship chose Morgana to command her, and now she and Aithusa share that connection. When Morgana dies, Aithusa will chose a new commander. Just like when I die, Kilgharrah will serve the next leader of the Collective… The next Emrys.”

“If the ships are centuries old, how come they’re so advanced?” Arthur asked, genuinely intrigued at the mechanics of these sentient AIs.

“Every time there is a technological breakthrough on Albion, their ‘soul cores’ are moved onto new ships. Because of this promise of maintenance, the AIs maintain their pledges of loyalty. There are so few of them left now, your father killed most of them.”

“One more genocide to add to Uther’s list, I suppose.” Arthur mumbled, grimly. The Prince placed his hand on Merlin’s. Who in turn wove their fingers together, just like before.  
  
“I can hardly believe that you’re his son.” Merlin said, “You’re so ready to listen, so ready to understand. Where your father is a dishonourable waste of time, you are full of virtue.”

**_You’re nothing like the person I thought you would be_** , they both thought in unison.

They unwound their fingers at the same time, and finished their meals in silence. They could both feel the intense attraction between them, but the connection was more than that. It was as if they’d spent many lifetimes as fast friends. It unsettled both of them, but it wasn’t anything that either of them were going to mention right now. They finished their food, and disposed of their utensils before brainstorming more ideas of how to maximise their chances against their collective enemy. Arthur soon realised that Merlin had a one-of-a-kind mind, and he was clearly extremely tactical in how he approached his military challenges. The Prince also realised that ‘Emrys’ was not the evil mastermind that his father had made him believe. Perhaps there was some truth to the claims when Merlin’s father was in charge… but he doubted it. The truth was, Arthur could sense that the violence that had erupted all around them made Merlin extremely uncomfortable. The Prince believed that if Merlin had a choice, he’d never hurt anyone at all. The more the pair worked, the more the he noticed that the unspoken tension that had seemed to subside, but there was something else now that Arthur couldn’t get out of his mind. Usually he’d change his uniform after every duty shift, which was every 10 hours. He’d clearly been in these clothes for more than 30 hours, and he was starting to feel it.

“Merlin?” Arthur tentatively asked.  


“Yes?”

“Do you happen to have a change of clothes that might fit me? This uniform is… dirty.” Arthur flushed. The last thing he wanted was his clothes starting to smell. Especially if his attraction to Merlin was returned.

The Prince didn’t miss the deep red that crept up the Sorcerer’s neck and on his ears. Merlin sputtered a quick “Of course.” and practically leapt up to grab a deep red uniform from his closet. “I had these made for you when you first arrived. Forgive the Collective insignia on the chest… Our clothing selection is rather… limited. There’s a spare towel in the bathroom too, if you’d like to freshen up that is.”

Arthur smiled, taking the uniform and placing it on the bed. “That’d be lovely, thanks.” He walked into the bathroom, locking the door.

It took several minutes before Merlin realised that Arthur had left the fresh clothes on the bed, and therefore would probably walk out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. Only a few hours ago, Merlin was standing on the bridge of Arthur’s ship when the Prince suggested he might want to bed Emrys. Now that they were both there, separated only by a door, Merlin couldn’t think of anything else. A tiny inner warning told the sorcerer that Arthur may be purposefully leading him into a false sense of security, but he quickly squashed that voice and shut it up. After all, the two of them had worked closely, almost intimately, to figure out how to beat back the Sidhe’s hordes.

After what seemed like an eternity for Emrys, but in reality was only a few minutes, Arthur stood at the bathroom door with his hair dripping wet, his bright blue eyes were staring at Merlin, which felt to the sorcerer as if the Prince was piercing holes in him. Merlin’s throat was dry as the blonde man slowly stepped towards him. He let his eyes wander across the perfect body that stood before him. It wasn’t a showboat physique, it was all practical. Where fashion models and vain creatures tried to get picture perfect lines which gave few benefits, Pendragon’s body showed strength. The whole thing was just perfect in Merlin’s eyes; The large defined chest with a light covering of hair, the soft outline of abdominal muscles in a strong core, the military arms that showed Arthur’s background in a military education. Merlin wanted to know what it felt like to be held down on a bed by those arms, underneath that body, kissing that annoyingly face.

Arthur admitted to himself that he was acting on impulse alone, but he made no attempt to stop himself when his hands reached up and wrapped behind Merlin’s neck, pulling the sorcerer’s mouth to his in a searing kiss. In an instant Merlin seemed to wake up from the trance, pulling Arthur closer, leaving their bodies flush against each other. Merlin flicked the towel that was around the other man’s waist, and it fell to the floor, just as he was pushed backwards onto the bed and pinned on his back with little chance of escape. They made out for several minutes before Arthur gave Merlin control of his arms again, nipping at the sorcerer’s neck whispering “Too many clothes. Off.”

Merlin began to comply with the Prince’s order, but as he did he got a very good look at the rest of the body he’d been admiring earlier, it made him gulp in anticipation. Emrys had just managed to remove his shirt, revealing a few scars that Arthur began to trace with his hands. Merlin felt the Prince’s hands wander down further, eventually one slipped under the band of his trousers grabbing at his ass as if it was something that the Prince himself owned. Merlin’s teeth clamped down on the shoulder that he was kissing, and both of them let out a loud groan. In an instant, they were brought to a halt by a screeching alarm that ripped through the whole ship. Merlin wriggled out from underneath the other man to tap at a console, before swearing under his breath. Arthur wasn’t quite sure what to make of the whole thing, but when he saw Merlin grow visibly paler, he realised the interruption had to have been important.

Emrys turned to the still naked Arthur, “As much as I hate having to stop, we’re going to have to continue this later.” he then waved his hand, perfectly drying the blonde hair that he wanted to desperately to play with, and threw the clothes that Arthur had requested into the man’s arms. “I’m sending you back to Excalibur, Morgana’s on her way here. She’s been attacked and she’s being followed by several Sidhe vessels, you’ll find your crew already getting your ship ready to fight.” Merlin tapped his console and Arthur de-materialised, and was sent back to his own ship. Breathe, the sorcerer told himself. He hoped that it wouldn’t be long before he got Arthur to himself again.

* * *

Arthur found himself transported to his quarters next to the bridge of the CS Excalibur. Besides the fact that he was sporting the most immense boner of his life, he was ready to command his ship, even if the circumstances had come as a bit of a shock. He swiftly dressed himself, but carefully unpinned the Collective insignia that was attached to the chest of the robes. When he stepped on the bridge, he wasn’t sure if he should be surprised or if all was as he expected it to be. There were no Collective troops, there was no evidence of a tracking device, and yet on his view-screen, there was the Kilgharrah and the burning Aithusa. Around him, Leon and the rest of his soldiers were bringing the systems back online. Merlin had, apparently, trusted wholeheartedly that Arthur would protect him, and that he wouldn’t run. For what felt like minutes, the inner conflict inside the Prince told him to set course away from the two ships and never look back. In a flash, Excalibur’s warnings began sounding the warning for incoming enemy slips, just before at least a dozen large Sidhe ships came out of slip close, too close, to the Aithusa and the Kilgharrah.

Immediately, the two Dragon ships erupted in laser fire, targeting the smaller ships that were emerging from the hangar bays of the purple diamonds before them. It was clear that they were out-gunned, the two ships were now facing down several hundred Sidhe vessels, and Excalibur’s systems were not yet fully operational. Then, it was Arthur’s turn to grow pale, as a large torpedo seemed to tear half of the forward section off of the Aithusa. Deep down, the Prince kept the faith that his sister was safe, that she had escaped worse, but then the Kilgharrah maneuvered itself between Aithusa and the Sidhe, putting itself directly in the line of fire for all of the large ships. Merlin was sacrificing his own ship. Within seconds, Morgana’s white dragon ship jumped to slip speed, and withdrew from the battle.

The Excalibur roared to life then, with the shields coming online and the weapons and half capacity, Arthur ordered his ship to engage the Sidhe from behind. The Kilgharrah had made several crippling blows against the larger ships with its gigantic cannons, but the smaller, more agile ships were beginning to damage it. The Prince marched forward and stood at the front of his bridge. “This is what the Excalibur was built for, take her directly into the frey, get those wasps away from the Kilgharrah.”

“Sir?” Leon interrupted, “Should we not return to Camelot space and warn your father?” 

“Leon, I appreciate your concern, but Camelot space is already compromised. We will discuss the matter later. For now, can we please focus on the purple death machines?” Arthur reprimanded, turning his focus back to the battle in space.

“Yes sir.” Leon echoed, and Excalibur shot towards Emrys’ ship, and began engaging the smaller ships. 

The Camelot ship began to make short work of the others before several of the larger ships directed their attention to them. The shockwaves of the enemy weapons began to shake Arthur’s ship to its core, and it wasn’t long before they were taking some heavy damage. The enemies had been thinned down significantly, but it wasn’t long before Percival and Arthur exchanged a knowing glance. They were losing. There were few options remaining, they could slip away and pray that the Sidhe would not follow, or they could fight and likely be disabled or destroyed. Arthur ordered the launch of all of Excalibur’s remaining fighters, even if there were only few, so that they could be used as drones to draw fire away from the two main ships. The drones flooded out of the hangars, and the crew of the CS Excalibur watched as they beelined for one of the larger enemy ships. At that moment, two of the large sidhe torpedoes rocketed towards the Kilgharrah, finding their mark with disturbing accuracy. As the Prince watched the explosions, he felt time still to a slow creep, and a sharp pain suddenly twisted in his gut. Shrapnel and debris flew away from the dragon ship, and its guns stopped firing. It was clear the ship was crippled, there was no sign of any engine activity either.

“Sir.” Percival called, “We’re being contacted by the Kilgharrah.”

When Merlin’s face showed on the screens around the bridge, Arthur’s jaw set in a tight line. There were bodies strewn across the floor and heaped over consoles, the fires had clearly started to get out of control. Merlin’s face looked battered; he had split his lip and there was a large cut on his forehead. Gwaine, the long-haired man who seemed to take such a dislike to Arthur and his people before had a serious head wound, and appeared to be hanging unconscious  
  
“Prince Arthur, do you read me?” Merlin shouted, desperately tapping one handed at a nearby console.

“I can hear you Merlin.” Arthur said.

“I’ve tried my best to get back online but Kilgharrah is almost totally disabled. The AI is going to vent the entire ship to put out the fires. He’ll attempt to repair himself but I can’t stay here. I need you.”  
  
Arthur turned to Leon seemingly seeking a second opinion, when he didn’t move he looked at Percival, who made a gesture that seemed to read as ‘what are you waiting for?!’.

“Tell me what you want me to do Merlin. I can’t take them on by myself…” the Prince calmly pointed out.

“I don’t want you to fight, you’ll be killed in an instant. Move closer to Kilgharrah and bring your slip drive online. Once you’re at 50km distance, drop your shields for 1.6 seconds exactly. That will be give me enough time to transport the both of us to your ship, and as far as I can tell we are the only survivors.” Merlin’s face looked pained at the thought of his losing so many crew members. “I’ll also transport my lab to one of your hangars, that way even if you decide to execute me, you can still fight the Sidhe. We’re at your mercy, Arthur.”

Arthur nodded, and pointed to the helmsman, “Do as he says. Perce, get ready to drop shields for 1.6 seconds exactly. Leon, once the shields come back online, set a slip course for the Jewelled Abyss, we can hide in there for the time being. Go.” Arthur smirked at the screen, “Oh, and Merlin?” 

“Yes, Arthur?” Merlin panted, clearly struggling under Gwaine’s dead-weight.

“If I remember correctly, I wanted to take off your clothes, I wouldn’t worry about me taking your head. Transport yourselves to my medical bay, I’ll come down and patch you both up.” Arthur smirked, as he watched a grinning, blushing sorcerer disappear from his communication screens. He then held up his hands to Percival and Leon, “Not a word, not from either of you.”

The Excalibur moved into position, and the Sidhe responded to their movements. Some of the smaller ships continued to attack the Kilgharrah, but most had now realised that there was only one threat remaining. Arthur watched as his shields dropped, the faint white glow around his ship dissipated. Clearly the Sidhe noticed this too, and fired several torpedos towards the defenceless ship. In an instant, the shields were back online, and in the next second the ship skipped across space to the site of the first battle. The Excalibur’s engines roared to life, taking the ship into the Jewelled Abyss, wreaking havoc with the sensors, but they were safe. For now.

“Leon, I’m leaving you in command while I’m gone. Do not disturb me unless it’s life threatening.” Arthur commanded, jogging off of the bridge. He was going to clear up some unfinished business.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone interested, I just started a tumblr (maxbailey.tumblr.com) feel free to give me a follow, I'll be following everyone right back!


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